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the Doctor and Her Butler
by Dr. Susan Block
est mon mari.
America is my spouse. France is my lover. And so, I keep coming back. From the topless beaches of Nice to the sex clubs of Toulouse, from the swinging yachts of Cannes to les affaires de la discrèt bourgeoisie de La Rochelle, and now Paris Printempts en Paris. Spring Pleasures, en français.
For better, and for worse sometimes, I've always mixed business and pleasure, with both my spouse and my lovers. So naturally, I leapt at the chance to combine a book tour for the French edition of The 10 Commandments of Pleasure (Les Dix Commandements du Plaisir, with a celebration of my 10th wedding anniversary in that quintessential city of pleasure and romance, Paris.
I flew in from LA. Max took the train in from Italy. Having not seen nor touched each other for three long, horrid months, the first order of business was pleasure. That is, SEX, and lots of it. You know, the kind of blinding, thoughtless, speechless sex that takes hold of your bodies and seizes your brains when you've been starved of each other for a trimester of loneliness. Max and I had two and three orgasms respectively before I realized we didn't have sheets on the bed (in these Paris tourist apartments, they tend to let you put the sheets on yourself). We couldn't be bothered with putting them on, so we just wrapped ourselves up in each other.
We'd always prided ourselves on spending every day of our wedded lives together (though sometimes erotically entangled with other people), without losing our passion for each other. But I must admit that being separated for all those excruciating weeks made our joining that much more passionate. I've always felt that "absence" is more likely to "make the heart go wander," rather than "grow fonder." But not if your lover calls you every day. Yet, the lack of his touch and smell is agony. Such a giddy pleasure to inhale and taste and feel someone you've only been able to hear, like a dream come to life in your arms.
After a sweet post-coital nap, off we went to the local radio station, NSEO: Ici et Maintenant, to begin our promotion of Les Dix Commandements du Plaisir, brought to you by that venerable old Gallic publishing house, Grancher Éditions, famous for its religious books (mon dieu!).
First things first: We shared a spot of good old American Jack Daniels with Didi, the lithe, long-haired, flipflop-sporting, slightly cranky but radio-passionate station owner. We drank and talked about Les Français, Les Americains, Le Sex, L'Amour, Le Terreur et Les Politiques.
Then on with the show, aptly entitled "Le Pou-Pou Show."
My interviewer was Stèphen, a cute, gangly, young comic, whose flattery ("Docteur Susan Block est formidable, geniale et très très sexy!") tickled my ego, and whose prankish girlfriend Karin teased my libido when she showed me his pénis ("loook at his dique! Isn't he beeoootifool?") between segments of Le Pou-Pou aux toilettes.
Imanne is a multi-talented, tri-lingual (French, English and Arabic), extremely pretty, playfully sensuous young Parisian of Moroccan descent whom Max discovered when she called his cell phone by mistake.
That fortuitous "wrong number" led to her becoming my assistant in France. She is also now a telephone sex therapist with the Dr. Susan Block Institute. Like most Moroccans, Imanne is Muslim, but she's "not your father's Muslim." She's as open-minded and free-spirited as any lapsed Christian, Jew, Buddhist or Hare Krishna.
Her mother brought her up to reject the burqa as a symbol of slavery, to embrace France as her country and to relish le plaisir in food, art, fashion, music, conversation and, of course, le sex.
As such, Imanne is a walking, talking advertisement for The 10 Commandments of Pleasure. Wherever she goes--cafés, bars, radio stations--men fall in love with her, sometimes women too. When they invariably try to find a way into her heart--or her panties--she tells them to read Les 10 Commandement du Plaisir du Docteur Susan Block. Book sales are soaring based on Imanne's pick-ups alone.
Max and I spent the next day in bed...
doing pretty much what we'd done the day before...
though now with the sheets on.
Then back we went to NSEO to do his radio show (yes, Max managed to get himself a radio show within a week of coming to Paris!), Max@Nite (just like on RadioSuzy1). We did it in a combination of French, English and fractured Frenglish, and even had a bit of German thrown in when Thomas Rusch, a sweet, blonde, hugely talented German art photographer with blazing blue eyes, a friend of our friends (Inez and Michael Blum from LA), joined us in the broadcast booth...